


Ripping A Hole In The Fade (Drabbles)

by Disputedleech



Series: Ripping A Hole In The Fade [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Also we say "fuck you" to a lot of canon, Multi, There are two Inquisitors and they're siblings, Trans Inquisitor, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-24 22:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disputedleech/pseuds/Disputedleech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles that go with the main fic idea, Ripping A Hole In The Fade (which will be done at some point....). They aren't always going to be in chronological order.</p><p>Rated Mature just in case of language. Or if we get super dark later.</p><p>Written by <a href="http://flowerqueenmerrill.tumblr.com">flowerqueenmerrill</a> and <a href="http://magefeathernerd.tumblr.com">magefeathernerd</a> on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cyrith the Koala

**Author's Note:**

> We use [Project Elvhen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true) by [Fenxshiral](http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/) as a resource for all Elvhen translations.  
> Any translations used in a chapter will be in the end notes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrith tends to latch on to people and not let go. His sister is the only one who can get him to leave people alone.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, what's your favorite color in the alphabet?" The elf had managed to keep a straight face while asking her question, although after a moment of eye contact, she began laughing. Behind them, there was the sound of muffled laughter, and the sound of coins clinking as they changed hands.

“Pay up, Squeaker.” Krem raised an eyebrow at Varric, his brow furrowing.

“Alright then.” Maire looked up at Bull, giggling.

“They’re still betting on who can say the most ridiculous thing.”

“My money’s on the dwarf.” At that, there was a snort of laughter, and Krem put his head down on the table, attempting to hide his face behind his bottle of wine. Over the ruckus throughout the tavern, no one payed attention to Dorian’s loud shout - or at least, not enough to care. To most of them, he was still “Magister,” after all.

Although they certainly looked up when the door burst open with an irate “Magister” on the other side. Dorian stomped over to table Maire and Bull were drinking at. “Remove this inconvenience from my back immediately! I know that I'm completely irresistible, but must he really latch on so?”

Cyrith slowly poked his head over Dorian’s shoulder, peering at Maire. “I’m not . . I’m not an inconvenience . . am I, Maire?” When she began giggling instead of giving him a proper answer, something clicked. “You’re drunk!”

“No, I’m funny. That’s why Varric is winning.”

“Winning? What’s he winning?” Cyrith turned and looked toward Varric, frowning a little.

Dorian cleared his throat impatiently. “Look. I don’t care _what_ he’s winning. Will you please get your brother off of me?”

She lifted her mug again, a dark grin spreading across her face. Even in her inebriated state, she recognized the opportunity to make some money. “How much you willin’ to pay?”

The Tevinter mage sputtered indignantly. “PAY?!”

Maire laughed at the expression on her friend’s face. “Yeah, sometimes if you pry him off, he starts crying. No one’s gonna want that.”

Varric watched as Cyrith rested his head on Dorian’s shoulder, before rising from his seat. “You know, I’ve just figured out a nickname for you,” the dwarf said as he approached the group at the bar. “Koala.”

The elven woman stared at Varric for a long moment, before prying herself off her chair, “I think that’s payment enough.” She stumbled behind Dorian and tickled her brother’s ribs. He immediately released his grip on Dorian, trying to protect his ribs.

“Well, you’re free now, Sparkler. I’d suggest you move before he latches on to you again.”

 


	2. Hugs and Halla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian's suspicion that Cyrith is trans is confirmed.

Maire paused in her task, pointing her knife at Dorian. “You want to hear a story?”

“Yes, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t point knives at my face, thank you very much.” Dorian pushed the offending hand back to its original task. “Why are you doing that, anyway?”

“Because I like this top part, but I don’t wear shoes. As an added bonus, this keeps Vivienne and Cassandra from yelling at me.” She began cutting away the soles of the boots, leaving her with what essentially amounted to foot covers. “A story. Well, there was this time that Arithari decided to strip naked and she - Oh. Oh Dirthamen.”

Dorian frowned, confused. “Who’s Arithari?”

“Ah, Dirthara-ar, I . . . meant . . . Cyrith. Um. He decided to strip naked and ran across the camp.”

“Cyrith? But you . . . you said she?”

Setting down her knife, Maire sighed. “I um, I’m not the one you should be asking. But if you do go ask him, be . . . careful with your wording.”

\--

Dorian paused outside of Cyrith’s room, taking a breath before knocking on the door. “Cyrith?” There was no reply, although after a few moments, there was a muffled whimper. Dorian tried to open the door, only to find that it had been locked. He shook the door knob, as if that would make the door open. “Please open the door.”

“I’ve got the key, but you’ll have to be patient with him right now.” Maire walked up behind Dorian and pulled a key from her pocket. There was another whimper from inside the room, as she turned the key and pushed the door open to reveal Cyrith laying on the floor near the fireplace.

“Nooooooo.”

She paused at the sight. “Da’nhen.” Maire shook her head as Dorian rushed past her, following at a slower pace.

Cyrith curled further into himself as Dorian knelt at his side. “Amatus, are you hurt?”

“He’s fine, Dorian, ‘tis only cramps.” The elvhen boy let out a long whine, clearly opposed to the thought of having to tell Dorian he was on his period. “Oh hush, you. He’s obviously worried,” his sister chided.

Maire put a hand to Dorian’s shoulder and moved him gently aside. She placed her arms under her brother's shoulders and knees, lifted him up, and carried him over to the couch. Dorian trailed after the siblings, concerned. Once Maire set him down, she turned to the foreign mage. “You can hold his hand if you wish, I’ll make something for the pain. Although he does love that halla on the bed.”

Dorian glanced towards the bed, where a large stuffed halla took up the head of the bed. He quickly grabbed it before returning to the elf’s side. He pressed the toy into his lover’s arms, who accepted it with a grimace.

As Dorian comforted Cyrith, Maire went about filling a waterskin and heated it with her magic. She also stopped to retrieve a simple pain relief potion from the shelf before returning to her brother’s side. “Take a sip, and the heat is for the cramps.” Holding both objects out for her brother, “He’ll be fine, but I’ll leave you two to talk.” She all but sprinted from the room as Cyrith took a sip of the potion.

Brushing a hand through Cyrith’s hair, Dorian sighed. “So, the reason we found you on the floor is?”

Cyrith buried his face into the halla’s head, and moved to place the heated waterskin onto his abdomen. “I . . . well . . . uh . . . heat?”

“Cyrith. That is a stone floor, typically they’re quite cold.” Dorian said with an eyebrow raised and a smirk.

Curling further around the heat, Cyrith mumbled. “Okay . . . um, what do you think about . . someone who was, say, born as a woman but feels that they’re a man?”

“I would think that he was transgender, and probably overthinking my reaction.” The Tevinter chortled when Cyrith squeaked.

“Do you . . how long have you known?” Cyrith stammered, sitting up and moving the waterskin so that it still helped alleviate the cramps.

“Well, you’ve just confirmed my suspicions, but it truly wasn’t all that long.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“I mind as much as you mind my mustache.” Dorian chuckled and grinned at Cyrith.

“Hey! It’s weird.” The elf squawked indignantly.

“You mean you don’t like my mustache?!”

Cyrith laughed softly, pulling Dorian down for a kiss. When the two broke the kiss, Dorian carded his fingers through the elf’s hair and pressed their foreheads together. “Well, I guess you don’t mind all that much, now do you?”

“It tickles, Dorian.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translation Key:**  
>  _Dirthara-ar_ : May I learn  
>  _Da’nhen_ : Little joy


	3. Kid Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk about childrens.

Cyrith stood next to Maire as she leaned on the balcony rail. “Please ask him, Maire.”

“Da’lath’in, why do I have to be the one to ask? He’s your lover.”

“Well, at least find out how he feels about children, I don’t know how he’ll react. I’m scared.” Maire rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair.

“You're a big baby. I don’t see how he’d have a problem with it, but I’ll ask for you.”

“Ma serannas, asa'ma'lin. Please don’t tell him that I told you to ask?”

“Te’son hallain, but you owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Go ask him.” Cyrith made shooing motions, clearly wanting her to go at that moment.

\--

Maire waved briefly to Dorian as she approached him in the library. “Hello, Dinathe'dirthelan.”

“I still have yet to learn what that means.” Dorian set his book down and rose from his chair, moving to lean on the rail.

“All in good time, ma falon.” Dorian heaved a sigh.

“Must you always do that?” He rolled his eyes as her only response was to laugh at him. “Now, what is it you needed?”

“I was wondering, how do you feel about children?”

“Children?”

“Do you like them?”

“Well, they’re smelly, noisy, and sticky, what’s not to love? Sounds like your own paramour, doesn’t it?”

“You know, Cyrith’s always liked children.” Dorian drew in a breath sharply, staring at Maire.

“I . . . what exactly do you mean?”

“Well, essentially, the big baby’s afraid of asking you if you want children himself.”

“I . . . well, you have rendered me speechless.”

“Clearly I haven’t, as you’re still speaking.”

“Brat.” He glared at her, but they both knew he wasn't actually angry.

“Go talk to him.”

“I should . . . Go do that.” Without another word, Dorian turned and left the library, heading to Cyrith's room.

\--

After speaking to Maire, Cyrith had returned to his room, where he sat on the bed, holding his stuffed Halla tightly. When Dorian came and knocked on the door, Cyrith assumed it was Maire. “Did you get an answer?”

“Even better, she cut out the middleman entirely,” Dorian said as he opened the door.

“Oh! Dorian!” Cyrith hid his face against the Halla, his cheeks flushing bright red. _Don’t look at me._

“Is there any particular reason you sent your sister as a messenger, amatus?” He sat down next to Cyrith, running a hand through his hair. The elvhen boy looked up at Dorian's touch,  biting his lip in thought for a moment before speaking.

“I . . . I didn’t know how you would react. I still don’t know, although I’m going to assume you’re not upset.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how I feel about it, but I know that we seem to do better when we state our intentions clearly. So . . . children?” Dorian folded his hands in his lap, waiting for Cyrith to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know . . . I've always been interested in children, in having a large family. But I guess I never knew how my partner would react, or if they would be interested."

“It was never much of a thought before. My . . . In Tevinter it was expected of me, but . . . well, I never thought-”

“You never really thought of it as a possibility?”

“To have a child according to my parents’ plan, it would have been a lie.” Dorian sighed, looking down at his hands. “For everyone involved. I would never bring a child into something like that.”

“I think I understand.”

“It wasn’t an option I thought I had before, until your sister mentioned it today. Usually men aren’t able to bear children, so I actually forgot that it was possible for yourself. I just always thought that it was something I would never have.”

“Is it something you want?”

“It’s truly your choice, amatus. It is your body.”

“I . . . eventually, yes.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translation Key:**  
>  _Da’lath’in_ \- Little heart  
>  _Ma serannas_ \- My thanks  
>  _asa'ma'lin_ \- Sister  
>  _Te’son_ \- Alright/Okay  
>  _hallain_ \- Baby halla or little halla  
>  _Dinathe'dirthelan_ \- Necromancer  
>  _ma falon_ \- My friend


End file.
